


Choir

by DragonOfChanges



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Loss of Faith, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 16:09:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12963174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonOfChanges/pseuds/DragonOfChanges
Summary: Hope regained for those who have lost it.





	Choir

The dark skinned, bald man looked down into the hazel eyes of the shorter man before him.

“Why should I. What purpose does it serve? For a bunch of-“ The smaller male glared in warning. Was he really going to SAY it? “What would our father say if he heard about this…nonsense?” The taller man finished angrily.

“It was HIS idea. He’ll BE there, in fact. Besides, you’re the best baritone in the group, other than Dad. Everyone else already said yes. So?” The small man raised his eyebrows in question. After a moment, the taller rolled his eyes and sighed.

“If it was his idea, then I guess I have no real choice. I’ll be there.” The short man popped a sucker out of his mouth.

“Good. Thank you, brother. This means a lot to him.”

_______________________________

FOUR DAYS LATER- Mid December

It was a small church, in a small parish, and every week saw fewer and fewer people in the dark wooden pews. Violence, poverty, tragedy. All these had taken their toll on the congregation. Just last week, they had buried three of their own, lost to senseless violence. Good, upstanding church goers, shot for their money and their vehicle. 

Because of things like this, many of the former faithful had become doubtful of their belief, a few abandoning it altogether. They’d simply given up. On everything. Given up on God, others, themselves. This particular Sunday service saw only a quarter of the seats filled. The tired looking pastor had slogged through yet another Sunday morning sermon, and was about to finish it. At the end, he asked if anyone else had any announcements. A short man in a sharp looking blue suit stood up in the back pew. He had a shaggy mane of blond hair, and whiskey colored eyes.

“I’m sorry, but could I…” He gestured to the stage. The pastor nodded. “Thank you.” Walking up the aisle, he took the pastors place behind the podium. He adjusted the microphone to his shorter stature.

“I don’t actually belong to this church.” He began. “But I’ve been coming here every Sunday for the past few months. In that time I’ve seen a lot of worry, some tragedy, and very little happiness in the faces here. I’ve been trying to come up with a way to help you all, to inspire you, but I’m a man of little means. The only thing I really have to offer is my voice. So, with the Padre’s permission, I’d like to share a song with you?” He turned to look at the pastor with piercing eyes. He nodded shakily. The small man stepped from behind the podium. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. Someone in the pews turned the camera on his phone on.

The first few notes were soft, but powerful, reaching even those in the back pews. As he continued, it became more confident. Louder. If there were words to the tune, it was not of a language that had ever been spoken, or sung, on Earth before. Even if the people couldn’t understand it, the song FELT of strength, of safety. Of warmth and home.

After a few minutes, a second, taller man took the stage from the side. No one had seen him enter. He had dark hair, and a firm jaw. Never ceasing his singing the first man greeted him with a nod and a smile. The taller man began to sing as well, his alto voice melding with the first in wordless harmony. Soon they were joined by a dark skinned woman, who came from the other side of the stage. Her soprano was added to the two, as was the baritone of a blond haired man with blue eyes who had also joined the group. There were gasps and murmurs from the congregation. Where had they come from? Who were they?

Soon there were others who joined the choir, adding to the melody, and to the harmony. A red haired woman. A bald, dark skinned man. An older, balding man. A man in his twenties, tall and strong. A dark haired woman. A slim man barely out of his teens. An older man, with curly shaggy hair. A blond haired guy who looked a lot like the chef from a certain tv show. A dark haired man in a brown coat, with piercing blue eyes. A tall dark skinned woman, wearing a white ring. Others, as well, until twenty stood on the small stage. The song became more beautiful than anything ever sung. Tears of joy formed in the eyes of the listeners.

Suddenly, there was a pause in the music, and the ranks parted. From behind the others came a smaller man with curly hair, a beard, and deep, soulful eyes. He looked out at the crowd, which had grown as those passing by the small church had entered to listen to the amazing music coming from within. Every pew was now filled, and there were people standing in the aisles. Many were now recording the singers.

The curly haired man began to sing, his voice a rich baritone. The others joined back in, gradually, in groups of two and three. The song had changed. It still felt of strength, of safety. But now the melody seemed to soar, to dip and turn as a thing with wings. It had become a song of faith, of courage. Of perseverance through hard times. Of knowledge that there would always be someone there for you. In the pews, people sat straighter. They held their chins up more as the music washed over them, healing their very beings. In every eye was a look that had not been there before. Hope.

It seemed to go on forever, and no time at all. Before the congregation was ready, the last strong notes were echoing through the rafters. A moment of silence passed, and then there was a roar of applause from those assembled. The bearded man smiled, and with those on stage, took a bow. The applause went on and on.

Suddenly, without a flicker, the lights in the small church went out. They were only off for a moment, not even long enough for the spectators to really react. In the dark there was a loud noise, like the rushing of the wind through the trees. When the lights came back on, the stage was empty.

Later, when footage from phone cameras was played back, the audio was perfect. Heavenly. And the stage...vacant.

**Author's Note:**

> The usual non ownership disclaimer...  
> In order of appearance:  
> Uriel  
> Gabriel  
> Michael  
> Raphael  
> Lucifer  
> Anna  
> Uriel (again)  
> Zachariah  
> Gadreel  
> Hannah  
> Samandriel  
> Metatron  
> Balthazar  
> Castiel  
> Billie (Death)  
> et al...  
> Oh...and God Himself!


End file.
